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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

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Chap. -. Copyright No. 

Shplf ^^3^^r 



UNITED STATES OF AMERICA, 



HULDAH 



A DAUGHTER OF THE REl^OLUTION 



AND OTHER 



Poems of American Patriotism 



eVbr 



EMMA ErBROWN 

It 



BOSTON., 
LOTHROP PUBLIS^ir^r'GGM®^??^^ 



I /^tVi /^dl897 






Copyright, 1897, 
By Emma E. Brown. 



ELECTROTYPED BY C. J. PETERS & SON, 
BOSTON. 



TO 

L. A. B. 

OF THE 

D. A. R. 

THESE POEMS OF AMERICAN PATRIOTISM 
ARE AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED 

BY 

E, E. B. 



CONTENTS 



PAGE 

HULDAH 9 

Esther's Defence of the Fort . . . . 51 

Madam Hancock's Reception 61 

Dora 67 



HULDAH 



HULDAH 

A DAUGHTER OF THE REVOLUTION 



Low, subtle whispers of summer- 
tide, 

Though fringes of snow still clung 
beside 

The jagged rocks, and with half- 
dazed look — 

Like a child just waked — lay the 
sleepy brook. 

Perchance 'twas the sunshine's length- 
ened ray, 

The lowing cattle, the haze that lay 

On the Milton hills, or that strange 
spell 

In the robin's note — I cannot 
tell — 

But Huldah leaving her spinning, 
knew 

And felt the restlessness as she 
threw 

9 • 



lO HULDJH 

• 
The bars of the lattice open. Cool 

and sweet 

As though from some pine wood's 
deep retreat — 

With a slow, coy tread, the fresh 
winds crept 

Through the sliding bars ; on the 
hearth, wing-swept. 

Falls the startled log in a moulder- 
ing heap, 

While with playful touch the breezes 
keep 

The dried bouquets on the mantel- 
shelves 

In trembling rustle ; like roguish elves 

At hide and seek 'mongst the piles 
of wool 

Soft-carded, with sudden start they 
pull 

And twist the thread on the idle 
wheel. 

Tumble the curls of Huldah, and 
steal 

Across her cheeks to leave a flush, 

Borrowed, it may be, from the blush 

Of pink arbutus, anemones. 

In their out-door work of mysteries. 



HVLDAH 1 1 

Then, planning fresh mischief, the 

rude winds stray 
To the pantry where ('tis Saturday), 
The brown bread moulding with busy 

hands, 
By her kneading-trough the mother 

stands ; 
Another gust — away flies her cap ! 
And tabby starts from a half-feigned 

nap 
When fragrant mints from the old 

cross-beam 
Drop into the pan of golden cream ! 

A merry laughing, while swift feet 
run 

To close the bars ere more harm is 
done. 

And yet by the lattice, a long time 
still 

The young girl lingers, as young 
girls will 

When the breath of Spring thrills 
heart and brain 

With a rapture — half akin to pain ! 

But green are the buds on the wil- 
lows* bough. 



12 HULDAH 

And fragrant the sod where ox and 

plough 
The father, in home-spun suit of 

blue, 
Is guiding the broad, deep furrows 

through. 

A sudden rumble — a quick, bright 

flash 
In the April skies ! But, closing 

the sash. 
Our little Huldah with happy smile 
Has turned away, and merrily while 
Her wheel is spinning, she sings a 

strain 
That seems of her own glad thoughts, 

the refrain : 

A sunlit sky and a sunlit earth — 

Blue hills and a bluer river ^ — 

Cool forest depths where the springs 

have birth ^ 
Green fields where the grasses quiver 1 

A fair bright future — without and 

within — 
Glad Hope to my heart is bringing^ 



HULDAH 13 

For a golden thread do the grim Fates 
spin 

When they hear — a red-breast sing- 
ing ! 



Another morning — just two hours 
old — 

A Sunday morning, clear and cold. 

Without, the crest of a waning moon 

Is slipping from brow of the Night; 
for, soon. 

Swift heralds of Dawn the east will 
rend 

And electric flash through the whole 
land send ! 

Chill breezes from marsh and low- 
lands creep. 

Rustling the trees where dead leaves 
sleep ; 

And, now and then, through the 
woods is heard 

The wandering note of some shiver- 
ing bird. 

In the little farm-house all is still 
Save the tick of the clock, the shrill 



14 HULDAH 

Sharp chirp of cricket, or tramp of mice 
'Twixt the loosened laths. 

Hark! twice — ay, thrice! 
And again it comes ! Good God ! 

can it mean — 
Nay — hush ! there's a cry the swift 

footsteps between, — 
An echoing tread on the bridge be- 
low, — 
Another call ! — and, like startled doe, 
Half doubting still if she wakes or 

sleeps 
The little Huldah, a-tremble, creeps 
Down the creaking stair-case, peers 

without 
The great hall door, and catching the 

shout 
Of the flying horseman, one dread 

word, 
" The British I " through all the house 

is heard. 
Till the old oak rafters themselves 

are stirred ! 

To the upper loft the father springs 
And forth from its hiding-place he 
brings 



HULDAH 15 

The heavy musket that he bore 
At Frontenac, long years before. 
" The red-coats — ha ! they shall not 

say 
With bullets we know but children's 

play ! " 
And with soldier-pride he soothes 

the fears 
Of wife and of daughter, kisses the 

tears 
Away from Huldah's cheeks, and 

then 
Runs down to the green where the 

"minute men" 
Their quiet hamlet homes to save 
Have gathered in phalanx stanch and 

brave. 

Ah — well-a-day ! — you all have 
heard 

That Sabbath's story, — word for 
word — 

How nobly they fought at Lexing- 
ton, — 

The short, sharp conflict farther on, — 

The fierce bush fighting — then the 
shout 



1 6 HULDAH 

Of victory; and tfie British rout, 
As with broken ranks they turned 

and fled — 
The proud Lord Percy at their head ! 
Yet what is our knowledge — thine 

or mine — 
Of that one day — save the bare out- 
line ! 
In Huldah's home — why! the long 

hours crept 
As if the very pendulum slept. 
The cries of alarm, the gathering feet 
Soon died away ; but the quiet street, 
The dead, dull silence everywhere. 
Seemed harder than anything else to 

bear ! 
For man may fight, but woman must 

wait, — 
And which — think you — is the 

easier fate ? 

There were distant shots, and now 

and then 
The smell and the smoke of powder, 

when 
With chilling breath, and a wailing 

sound 



HULDJH 17 

The fickle winds to the east veered 

round ; 
Snug, sheltered, and safe from rude 

alarm 
In its quiet nook, stood the hillside 

farm. 
Yet the mother and Huldah felt a 

chill 
As they looked and listened — -a sud- 
den thrill 
Of quick, sharp pain — for dearer 

far 
Than our own poor lives, our loved 

ones are ! 
And our very safety — when theirs, 

we know. 
In peril must be — is an added woe ! 

On the upper shelf, at close of day. 
Still folded the Sunday garments lay ; 
The catechism's dreaded task 
The mother had quite forgotten to 

ask. 
And now the last red shaft in the 

west 
Had ended the hours of sacred rest 
For the day was reckoned (as it begun 



1 8 HULDAH 

• 
In the good old times) from sun to 

sun ! 

And laying aside the Holy Book 

Her half-knitted stocking the mother 
took, 

While little Huldah began to reel 

Fresh skeins of yarn from her spin- 
ning-wheel ; 

But dull and listless her fingers ply 

The wonted stint, though she stands 
close by 

The lattice window where field and 
brook 

And bud and bough have the self- 
same look 

As yester-morn — yet the fairest 
scene 

Strange shadows may catch from — 
a day between ! 



^ weeping sky and a mourning earthy — 

Bleak hills and a bleaker river ^ — 
T)ark forest wilds where the storms 
have birth, — 
Brown fields where the dead leaves 
shiver ; 



HULDAH 19 

A dim^ gray future — within and with- 
out — 
Dread Fear to my heart is bringing^ 
For in the chill dusk, when truth is a 
doubt, 
I heard — a whip-poor-will singing ! 



With weight of blossom — with fruit- 
age now, 
Droops the trailing vine and the 

loaded bough, — 
Through the gray old woods the 

flowers have gone 
In long procession, one by one; 
The trembling snow-drop's pallid 

face 
Had hardly smiled ere it yielded 

place 
To violets, to twin-flower bells. 
And the sweet claytonia that dwells 
A hermit within its mossy nook ; 
And now, like lighted torch by the 

brook. 
Flames the cardinal-flower, while 

golden rod 
And the asters* deep rich purple, nod 



20 HULDJH 

In the meadows brown, as if the sun 
And shadow were melted into one ! 

And all this time the tide of war 
Whose sudden rise old Middlesex 

saw, 
That April morning — as in a 

dream — 
Has ebbed and flowed in one vast 

stream 
Throughout the land ; their white 

and red 
The bright June roses scarce had shed. 
When on Charlestown's height the 

battle came 
That gave to one hill a world-wide 

fame ! 
Nor do Southern homes their heroes 

lack ; 
For Patrick Henry echoes back 
The same determined will that fired 
Our bold Green Mountain boys — 

inspired 
Young Ethan Allen, when the " keys 
Of Canada " he vowed to seize. 
And at Ticonderoga show 
How a true soldier meets the foe ! 



\ 



HULDAH 21 

With smaller file, but fiercer heart — 
(It may be that the touch, the smart 
Of rifle-balls — like some wines make 
Fresh thirst, that needs fresh draughts 

to slake !) 
Long weeks ago the " minute-men " 
To Lexington returning, when 
Their service, for the time, was 

through, — 
With eager, longing eyes the few 
Thin ranks were scanned by one and 

all 
Whose homes had heard that " morn- 
ing call." 
And while, impatient, to the gate 
Our little Huldah runs to wait. 
The careful mother — ere it burn — 
Her smoking " fire-cake '* stops to 

turn, 
And lay upon the fresh-scoured deal, 
Where waits the simple evening meal, 
An extra spoon, knife, fork and 

plate 
For " father," for the hour is late. 
And hungry, faint, she fears that 

he 
After the hard day*s march will be. 



22 HULDJH 

In long-drawn line'the troops pass on, 
Till now the scattered files have gone 
Far down the road ; and all alone, 
With altered step, with altered tone. 
Poor Huldah turns, to meet half-way 
The mother's sudden, sad dismay — 
" And yet 'tis likely we may find 
He tarried, just a while, behind — 
Or, mayhap, joined the troops that 

lay 
Around old Boston, for they said 
With Washington now at their head 
The ' Continentals ' meant, ere long. 
To enter in, with shout and song ! " 

So Huldah and the mother try 
To cheer each other — drawing nigh 
The dying embers, as they wait 
To hear the footstep at the gate. 
And still untouched the supper 

stands 
While steadily the old clock's hands 
Are travelling on from hour to hour 
As if they held some subtle power. 
And knew our hopes, fears, life and 

death 
The while they number every breath ! 



HULDAH 23 

With morning came fresh hope, fresh 

plan — 
By questioning each " minute-man " 
The truth, of course, would soon be 

shown. 
And it were better all were known — 
The very worst — than longer bear 
This burden of suspense and care. 
What did they learn ? Well, one 

man said 
That he had seen him far ahead 
Of rank and file that morning when 
The call had come for " minute- 
men"; 
Another said, " He fought right 

well — 
A very hero — till he fell." 

" Fell ? " Huldah's lips grew white 

with fear. 
The mother gasped, " We did not 

hear — 
We did not know " — " Nay ! don't 

mistake," 
The blunt lips added, " lines must 

break 
In fight, you know ; we fall, we rise, 



24 HULDAH 

• 
And I am sure these very eyes 

Saw the brave man again, ere long 

Right in the thickest of the throng ! " 

" Yes ! Up and fighting ! " said a 

third, 
"He sprang as lightly as a bird 
From that first wound." But then 

— what then ? 
Well, really it was doubtful when 
The fierce bush-fighting came, to tell 
What happened — some ran on — 

some fell — 
And some had tarried to defend 
The broken columns at the end ; 
While others hid in ambush, more, 
However, had pressed on before 
To hasten the retreat ; blockade 
The city — they themselves had 

stayed 
Most willingly, but calls at home 
So urgent grew that they had come 
To be " at minute's warning " still 
All ready — with a right good will ! 

With aching heart, word after word. 
As in a dream, the mother heard ; 
And Huldah, as she listened, grew — 



HULDAH 25 

(Such sudden change our grief and 

pain 
Will sometimes work — like summer 

rain) 
A woman, strong to bear, to do ! 



Amethyst skies, and chrysoprase hills. 
Where the lengthening sunbeam creepeth. 
Murmur of South winds, babble of 

rills, 
Whistling of orioles, bob-o-link trills, 
Tet soundly the little bud sleepeth. 

Dull, leaden skies where the heavy 

clouds lower. 
Hills the glad sunshine for saketh. 
Raw, piercing winds and a chill, 

drenching shower. 
Sobbing of pines where the bleating 

herds cower, 
Tet, look you I the little bud waketh I 



O dreary winter! Just outside 
The city still, the troops abide ; 



26 HULDJH 

For though, weeks since, the frozen 

bay 
Temptations offered to essay 
The promised, long-deferred attack. 
Yet wise war councils held them back 
A little longer still, till men. 
Stores, ammunition came, and then 
More confident the raid would be, 
And crowned with surer victory ; 
So reasoned Washington, and so 
The patriots resolved to do. 

Meanwhile, young Burr and Arnold 

toil 
Through pathless wilds of Maine, to 

spoil 
Quebec, and there unite, at length. 
To give the New York troops fresh 

strength. 
And midst discouragements untold, 
Montgomery, with ardor bold, 
Showed how a strong will could 

prevail 
The " Heights of Abraham " to scale. 

On leaden wings the months crept 
on ; 



HULDAH 27 

The cold white drifts were almost 

gone, 
And through the lattice bars once 

more 
Came hints of summer days in store. 
One hope, and only one, remained : 
If entrance should, at last, be gained 
Within the city — who could tell ? 
The father might be there — 'tis well 
To hope, and Huldah tries to cheer 
The mother, and allay her fear. 
The while her busy fingers ply 
Their daily tasks, and bravely try 
By ready work of ready hand 
To help the patriotic band. 

A single night — and lo ! the sun 
Next morning showed more labor 

done 
" Than my vast army, I believe. 
In a whole month's time could 

achieve ! " 
The British general exclaimed — 
Of his own laggard troops ashamed. 
Eleven days from that March night, 
And Boston gloried in the sight 
Of streets that knew no more the tread 



28 HULDAH 

Of Tory or the royal red ! 

And while the British fleet still lay 

At anchor, just outside the bay, 

A new, strange banner met their 

eyes 
Of thirteen stripes against the skies ! 

From our own grief and misery 
Springs the sweet balm of sympathy ; 
And burdened souls, because they 

know 
Life's bitterness, are quick to show 
That Christian charity which is 
So rare in such a world as this ! 
And when the thought had come, 

that he — 
The lost one — 'mongst the sick 

might be. 
Though never word, trace, sight or 

sound 
Of their own loved one could be 

found. 
Yet hearing there the piteous cries 
Of one poor sufl^erer, who lies 
Just at Death's door — what do they 

care 
Though British uniform he wear? 



HULDAH 29 

With soothing words, with gentle 

touch 
That to the sick one means so much, 
The mother's tender, loving hand 
His burning cheeks and forehead 

fanned ; 
Brought dainty bits from off her 

shelf- 
Delicious comfits she herself 
From luscious fruits prepared as no 
One else (the father said) could do ! 
And when the soldier, half awake, 
(He came from Devonshire, it seemed. 
And of his English home had 

dreamed) 
From long delirium cried, " Oh ! 

take 
Me quick away ! I long to see 
The sparkling brook, the old oak 

tree. 
The fresh green fields, the woods, 

the pond. 
And those blue mountains just be- 
yond ! " — 
The mother said, " Why ! let him 

come 
To us — we have a country home. 



30 HULDJH 

And room to spire — the change 

might do 
More for him than the doctors 

knew ! " 

And so it happened, one bright day 
Within their Httle guest-room, lay 
A British soldier ! And the news 
A wondrous zeal and fire infuse ; 
But when the noble women hear 
The innuendoes, taunt and jeer — 
The epithets of " Tory," " Spy," — 
To one and all they make reply, 
" 'Tis surely but a simple deed 
Of charity, as, in his need. 
We would some pitying heart and 

true 
For our beloved one might do ! " 



/ had a message for my love. 
Full tender^ deep, and true; 

And yet J O waiting, white-winged dove 
I could not give it you I 

A fresh breeze kissed my cheek, — 
// passed unto the South — 



HULDAH 31 

The Land that all my longings seek — 
Tet sealed was my mouth. 

The good ship touched the shore^ 

She sailed far out of ken. 
And yet no messages she bore. 

No words of tongue or pen. 

Just then, across my path 

A sudden shadow came. 
One of God'' s poor, who hath 

The blessing, " in His name,'' 

One for whom Jesu died 

Had fallen by the road ; 
I could not turn aside — 

/ gave him raiment, food. 

And words of friendly cheer — 
JVho could do less than this 

For one, a fellow man, whose tear, 
Whose smile reflecteth his ? 

Tet suddenly there shone 

The light of a new day ; 
The message had passed on 

In God's own blessed way! 



32 HULDJH 

• 
For Love is still the same — 

Whate 'er we dream or think - 

Though bound to one fond name. 

Perchance, yet many a link 

'The magic chain must make. 
Ere heart can answer heart 

In perfect concord, and thus take 
Of heaven 's own joy a part I 



Now at the North — now at the 

South — 
The demon War, with half-closed 

mouth. 
Had muttered challenges all through 
The Spring ; and many knew 
The British Parliament had vowed 
" This rebel handful " should be 

cowed 
At once, if force of arms and men 
Could bring obedience back again. 
But when Sir Peter^s boasted strength 
Before old Moultrie, quailed, at 

length ; 
And Clinton's bold attempts were 

foiled 



HULDAH 23 

At Charleston, till his ships were 

spoiled 
Of colors, ammunition, stores — 
Grave apprehensions filled the corps 
Of" British regulars " ; and now 
Though troops had come from Ad- 
miral Howe, 
And though the feeble patriot band 
Was suffering loss, on sea, on land — 
Behold ! a tremor shakes the throne 
Of monarchs — wheresoever known, 
As Declaration — loud and clear — 
Of Independence, greets the ear ! 
And a new Nation takes her stand 
United — heart and soul and hand. 
A race full-grown, full-armed, in- 
deed — 
As in old classic lore we read 
How the prolific brain of Zeus 
A perfect Pallas could produce ; 
And how a legion on the plain 
Of Thebes arose, from dragon slain ! 

But ah ! not yet may conflict cease — 
Since armor is for war, not peace — 
And Liberty so dear, so rare. 
The precious seal of blood must bear. 



34 HULDAH 

Now at Long Inland — at White 

Plains — 
With many losses, many gains, 
The contest rages fierce and strong, 
While shouts of victory belong, 
Now to the royal flag, and now 
To bars and stars, whose colors show 
The heavens above, the stripes below ! 

With eager ear that autumn day. 
The British soldier as he lay 
Half-sleeping, half-awake, had heard 
The neighbors when they brought 

the word 
To Huldah — tarrying the while 
To catch the sunshine of her smile. 

A crow's sharp " caw," and plaintive 

note 
Of "pewee" through the still air float. 
And from the purpling grapes, a 

breath 
(Like that the sweet day-lily hath) 
Comes through the open sash ; and 

now 
A red leaf from the maple bough 
Has dropped upon the sill ; a bee 



HULDJH 35 

All honey-laden, and a free 
Bright butterfly flit in and out ; 
And from the orchard comes the 

shout 
Of children as they shake the loaded 

tree. 

O rich, ingathering time ! The earth 
In springtide, to maintain the birth 
Of myriad buds, perforce must drain 
The air of stimulus ; and brain. 
Breath, muscle, feel in turn the need 
Of life absorbed by germ and seed. 
But autumn comes with garnered 

store, — 
The teeming earth o'erflows once 

more, — 
And clasping her full hand we take 
The quick, magnetic thrills that make 
It bliss to breathe — ay! ecstasy 
As in our childhood — just to be ! 

And so that bright October day 
While listlessly the sick man lay 
And let his thoughts in quiet rhythm 
Blend with the scene — a sudden 
chrism 



^6 HULDJH ' 

Seemed falling on him as the dew. 
And every nerve, vein, fibre, knew 
The tide had turned — the open door 
Of life, not death, was his once more. 
He glanced about him, raised his head. 
And as he caught th^ busy tread 
Of feet below, and then the song 
Of Huldah at her work, a throng 
Of happy thoughts filled heart and 

brain 
And love of life crept back again. 

SONG 

Only a brave old maple ^ 

Shorn of its scarlet and gold. 

And traced on the scroll of sunset 
As a hand-writing black and bold, 

A low^ wailing wind frets the branches ; 
The dead leaves start up in surprise^ 
Till at length in the hush of the gloaming 
The dryad 's sad monody dies. 

O desolate tree in the meadow. 
With pleading hands stretched to the 
sky 



HVLDAH 37 

Do you know the glad hopes of a spring- 
tide 
Asleep in your folded arms lie ? 

And that never a breath of the Storm 

King, 
And never a drift of the snow. 
Can rifle the bud from its casket 
Or loose the firm anchor below? 

^ Bide patiently, then, the bleak winter. 
And change the sad wail to a song ; 
Bear up, for the robins and bluebirds 
And South winds are coming, ere long I 



An empty room ! what could it mean? 
Nay ! could it be that under screen 
Of night, and, mayhap, from the 

dread, 
Of prison bars, that he had fled — 
The British soldier ? It is true 
These convalescent weeks, they knew 
How restlessly he paced the floor, 
But then, they thought it nothing 

more 
Than, in impatience, anyone 



38 HULDAH 

• 
Recovering slowly might have done. 

Yet here upon the table lay 

His watch and purse — a note to say 

This strange departure he could 

not 
As yet, explain to any, but 
Though words — deeds seemed in 

truth too rude 
To show his fervent gratitude — 
A debt to their sweet charity 
The life they saved henceforth should 

be! 

Silent and soft and white and slow — 
On hill, stream, meadow — falls the 

snow. 
A hush without, a hush within, 
A cold drear world where all has 

been 
So full of color, warmth, and glow ; 
And Huldah — looking, listening — 

feels 
A new strange loneliness that steals 
The dimpling smile, the song half- 
way — 
(As the bleak north winds chide and 
stay 



HULDJH 39 

With chilling breath and frowning 

look 
The rippling laughter of the brook !) 

And still with many a turn and phase 
The fierce war spirit stirs and sways 
The land that waits while Freedom's 

breath 
Seems wavering 'twixt life and death. 
The battles on the Jersey shore 
And, now and then, the cannon's roar 
From fleet and fort still keep alive 
The patriot's hope, while bravely 

strive 
The poor starved troops with Wash- 
ington — 
A host himself! — to spur them on. 

Old Valley Forge — the story yet 
Comes with fresh thrill, and eyes are 

wet 
With tears unbid — what time we 

read 
Of bitter suffering, bitter need, 
All borne so uncomplainingly 
By those whose eyes might never see 
The boon they bought us — Liberty ! 



40 HULDAH 

• 
'Midst disappointment, ills untold — 

Tories at home, and traitors bold. 

With massacre at Wyoming 

An added horror yet to bring ! 

Still, Burgoyne's late surrender fanned 

To flame again hope's dying brand, 

A flame that bright and brighter grew 

When in Manhattan's harbor lay 

At anchor, one glad summer day. 

With pennons red and white and blue. 

The long-expected, brave French fleet. 

And Count D'Estaing commanding it. 

O glad bright morning on the bay ! 
O sad, white dawning, as one ray — 
One only — pierced the narrow slip 
Of window, in the prison-ship — 
The " Jersey " — worst of all through- 
out 
The waters of the Wallabout ! 
Stifled and starved the prisoners lie 
A wailing mass of misery. 
And living suff^erers envy those i 

Whose eyes are first in death to close. 
O righteous Heaven ! one day will 

show 
Full justice to all men, we know ; 



HULDAH 41 

But while the good still suffer wrong, 
And weak hands writhe beneath the 

strong, 
The cry must rise, "How long — 

how long ! " 

Among the prisoners, one man 
Creeps to the light, and dim eyes 

scan 
With wistful look the harbor and 
The long, low line of sea-girt land ; 
How strange the bright blue water 

seems ! — 
How cheerily the sunlight gleams 
On snow-white sail, on sandy shore. 
And fresh green turf where never- 
more 
His feet may tread — and though 

the trace 
Of suffering has aged his face. 
It is — ah yes ! we know it now. 
The kindling eye, the thoughtful 

brow 
That Huldah kissed the morning 

when 
The call had come for " minute- 
men." 



42 HULDAH 

Alas ! how dim, how far away 
It seems — that one short April day 
When, hand to hand, he fought until 
There came the sense of something 

chill 
On hand and foot — a blank — and 

then 
The British ambulances when 
He woke and heard the questioning 

jeer, 
" Why ! how came such a rebel here ? " 
" We found him wounded in the road 
And took him, since the 'red coat' 

showed 
Our own, we thought — but, 'buff 

and blue' 
A sturdier rebel never knew!" 

"Ah well ! they tried in vain to make 
Me compromise, or base oath take ! 
And when they could not as a spy 
Make use of me, they thought to try 
Fresh cruelties and quite subdue 
Me — but they little knew 
The patriotic blood that flowed 
Within my throbbing veins, and 
showed 



HULDAH 43 

The father, grandsire, who in strife 
Of other days had yielded hfe 
With hero spirit ! — Well — ah well ! 
They did their best, but could not 

quell 
My rebel ardor — years of pain, 
Imprisonment — and what the gain? 
To fall were glorious on the field. 
But this is pitiful — to yield 
One's life by slow degrees, and know 
That it is naught to friend or foe 1 
And yet if I could only see 
The dear home faces, willingly 
With my poor comrades they might 

lay 
Me down to rest — this very day 1 " 
So thought the prisoner as he heard, 
" Bring out your dead ! " the morn- 
ing word. 

A hand upon the outer latch — 

A closer crowding through the 

hatch — 
Who was it? Some one else to 

share 
Their woe? But no ! — the tall 
form there — 



44 HULDAH 

" Good God ! it is the very face 
I fought with in that narrow place 
Beside the road ! " and then he 

turned 
To find conviction — all — con- 
firmed. 
As pressing through the wailing 

crowd 
The British soldier spoke aloud 
His name, and grasping then his 

hand. 
Without a greeting, said : " We 

stand — 
Though in a very different place — 
Once more, brave foe, face close to 

face ! 
We fought right well that April day. 
But fiercest enemies, they say. 
Make firmest friends — so may it be 
Henceforward, Sir, with you and me ! 
For life itself, and far above 
This breath of ours, the fire of 

love ! — 
For all the sweetness of your home 
A debtor to you I have come ! 
Yet never words of mine can tell 
What bitter, bitter sorrow fell 



HULDAH 45 

That day when thinking of the face 

I covered in that dreary place 

With my own cloak, the knowledge 
came — 

(It may have been the likeness there 

In your sweet Huldah's brow and 
hair) 

My foe — their loved one — 'tis the 
same ! 

Long months since then, now here, 
now there, 

IVe sought " the lost one " every- 
where. 

For signed, you see, by our good 
king. 

Your pardon and release I bring ! " 



Five times the winter snows had lain 
On field and river, upland, plain; 
Now here, now there, the tide of war 
North, South, East, West, alternate 

saw. 
But hearts grew strong when helping 

hands 
Were stretched from far-off foreign 

strands. 



46 HULDAH 

Pulaski, noble Ha Fayette, 
And Kosciusko — even yet 
Upon their generous deeds we dwell 
And to our eager children tell. 

Success, defeat — it was the same 
Old tale — with just a change of 

name. 
Until, one bright October morn 
An unexpected joy was born ; 
And to its depths each patriot soul 
Is stirred, while swift the tidings roll, 
" Cornwallis has surrendered ! Ring 
The bells in every town, and bring 
The good news into every home — 
To you and yours sweet Peace has 

come I 

And, ere the echoes die away. 
Let us one short, swift moment stray 
To Middlesex where field and brook — 
The very farm yard — have a look 
As if some sudden joy had come 
To nestle in the hill-side home. 
A sudden gust of wind that steals 
The curtain from its place reveals. 
Within the little " keeping room," 



HULDAH 47 

(Most often doomed to cold and 

gloom ! ) 
A lily here, a rosebud there, 
Arranged with dainty thought and 

care, 
And in their Sunday garments clad, 
The merry lass, the bashful lad. 
The dame with cap-box in her hand. 
Come up the path, and now they 

stand 
In quiet groups within; while two, 
(A manly form with English face, 
A girlish figure full of grace. 
Yet freedom too, as if she knew 
Her birthright!) joining hands re- 
peat 
The promises, the pledges sweet — 
" To love, to cherish — heart for 

heart — 
In sickness, health — till Death us 
part ! " 

Up from the meadows , down from the 

hills^ 
Snatched by the breezes, caught by the 

rills — 
Hark I to the wonderful chorus ! 



48' HVLDAH 

Warfare has ended in white truce of 

peace, 
yealousies^ hatred^ rivalries cease 
When Love her elixir breathes o'er 
us ! 

And still as the years with their 
changes roll by^ 

Breaking each barrier — strengthening 
each ticy 
Union grows stronger and stronger ; 

Nation to nation is drawing more 
nigh — 

And since of one language^ aim^ an- 
cestry^ — why 
Should we cherish old enmities longer? 



ESTHER'S DEFENCE 
OF THE FORT 



ESTHER'S DEFENCE OF 
THE FORT 

A STORY OF ONE OF NEW HAMPSHIRE'S 
DAUGHTERS 



Since those far-off days when Mason 

came — 
And Fernando Gorges of world-wide 

fame — 
To found on Piscataqua's rockbound 

shore 
A " Royal Province *' (not only in 

name !) 
With its sure, safe harbor and boun- 
teous store 
Of nature's wealth in fish and game, — 
New Hampshire's Daughters, stanch 

and strong. 
Have left their record in story and 

song. 

51 



52 ESTHER'S DEFENCE 

And those valiant deeds of the days 

of old — 
We never tire to hear them told, 
When dangers threatened on every 

hand 
The lives and homes of that little 

band 
Of pioneers ! brave, patient, strong — 
Unfading laurels to those belong 
Who pushed their way through the 

pathless wood, 
Undaunted in faith and fortitude, 
Till among the Granite Hills at 

length 
Rose their noble State in beauty and 

strength ! 
And, helping always — a tireless 

band ! — 
Through the bye-gone years we see 

them stand — 
New Hampshire's Daughters, stanch 

and strong, 
Leaving their record in story and 

song. 

Brave Hannah Dustin ! — a shudder 
and chill 



OF THE FORI' ^^ 

Run through our frames and our 

eyeHds fill 
As we read of her capture — the 

dreadful fate 
That awaited herself and her child 

— the hate 
Of the cruel, treacherous Indian 

band 
That at length lay slain by her own 

right hand. 

There was Mary NefF — there was 

Molly Stark — 
And many another of shining mark, 
But among the names that are 

handed down 
From sire to son with their wide 

renown, 
Among the many I think of one 
Who faced the enemy all alone ! 
A frail and slender woman, they said. 
Was this Esther Jones with her clear, 

wise head. 
But she always knew what was best 

to do — 
That rare, fine gift bestowed on the 

few. 



54 ESTHER'S DEFENCE 

And to Esther* it was, that every 

man 
In the garrison came for the wisest 

plan 
Of guiding the colony day by day 
And keeping the savage tribes at 

bay — 
For whatever she said they always 

knew 
Was the best and the safest thing 

to do. 

The planting, one spring, had been 

long delayed 
Because of a treacherous Indian 

raid. 
And when, at last, it could safely be 

done 
If they worked together till set of 

the sun. 
She bade all go and leave her on 

guard 
In the garrison fort, well bolted and 

barred. 

So, with loaded guns they had gone 
away — 



OF THE FORT 55 

Man, woman, and child from the 

fort that day, — 
And Esther alone in the garrison 

stood, 
Surrounded each side by the dense 

pine wood ; 
The nearest house was a mile away 
And the savage tribes in ambush 

lay 
Near the forest path, but she knew 

no fear — 
This dauntless Esther who waited 

here. 

The long, long day was nearing its 

close 
When, suddenly, out on the still air 

rose 
A wild war-whoop ! — 

Poor Esther knows 
The wily foe at length have guessed 
How weak is the fort ! She must 

do her best — 
She must rally all her wits to the 

front 
For 'tis she alone who must bear the 

brunt 



56 ESTHER'S DEFENCE 

Of this savage* horde. They are 

coming fast 
A.nd she knows each moment may 

be her last ! 

But, undismayed, she challenges all 
The murderous host, and her figure 

tall 
Arrayed in her husband^s coat and 

hat 
Looks now from this loop-hole, now 

from that. 
While with gun in hand they can 

hear her call 
To Peter, to John, to Henry, to 

Paul, 
And a host of others, as if there 

stood 
Beside her a stalwart brotherhood 
Of valiant warriors ! 

With puzzled mien 
The Indians pause — and while they 

wait 
As if hypnotized there by the gate 
A troop of well-armed men is seen 
Hemming them in on every side 



OF THE FORT 57 

While a panic seizes them far and 

wide. 
The planting was over ere set of the 

sun 
And an easy victory now is won ! 

Brave Esther Jones ! Till the day 

was done 
Alone she had held the fort — among 
New Hampshire's Daughters, stanch 

and strong, 
Let her name be known in story and 

song! 



MADAM HANCOCK'S 
RECEPTION 



MADAM HANCOCK'S 
RECEPTION 



A HUNDRED years and more ago — 
When haughty England was our 

foe — 
In Boston harbor one bright day, 
The brave French fleet at anchor lay. 

And timely aid they gave us then — 
The Count d*Estaing and all his 

men; 
When hope from every heart had 

fled 
And victories crowned the royal red. 

" Now, ere to France they sail away," 
Said Hancock to his wife that day, 
" For these good friends, so tried 

and true 
In time of need — what can we do?" 
6i 



62 MADAM HANCOCK'S 

Fair Dorothy with courtesy 
And old-time hospitality, 
Agreed at once to do her part 
With ready hand and loyal heart : — 

"For Count d'Estaing's brave staff," 

she said, 
" A fine French breakfast I will 

spread ; 
A hearty welcome, right good cheer 
Our generous allies shall find here ! " 

For thirty guests her board was laid 
When suddenly, she saw — dis- 
mayed — 
The officers of all the fleet — 
Eight-score and more, come down 
the street ! 

But with rare tact she swiftly threw 
Her doors wide open, and none 

knew 
Of all that crowd of gallant men 
The lady's consternation when 
She wondered how her larder's store 
For thirty guests could feed eight- 
score ! 



RECEPTION Gl, 

Then came a sudden happy thought 
As through the open door she caught 
A glimpse of green where, In those 

days, 
The neighbors' cows were wont to 

graze 
On Boston Common ; " Milk them 

all ! " 
(She bade her servants) " and then 

call 
At every house on Beacon Street 
For food to feed our honored fleet." 

And so it was that all were fed 
Most sumptuously ; and each one 

said 
That Madam with her gracious mien. 
Had entertained them* like a queen ! 

Then Count d'Estaing who would 

not be 
Outdone in hospitality, 
Begged Madam to invite some day 
Her friends to meet them down the 

bay; 
And Madam (if the tale be true) 
Invited all the friends she knew. 



64 MADAM HANCOCK 

Till, in astonishment, the fleet 
Five hundred Boston ladies greet ! 

But Count d'Estaing with beaming 

face 
Received them all with courtly grace, 
^\\i\Q feu-de-joie and cannonade 
Old Boston Bay a fete-day made. 



DORA 



DORA 



All Nature seemed awaking from her 

winter nap ; 
The trees, though leafless, felt the 

rising sap 
Stir in their veins ; the robin's clarion 

call 
Rang out upon the morning air, and 

all 
The strange, sweet restlessness of 

Spring seemed given 
Within the blue-bird's note; bright 

smiled the heaven. 
And, patiently, the fresh-ploughed 

earth beneath 
Was waiting Nature's miracle ; a 

wreath 
Of curling smoke from briar and 

brushwood rose 
To be again incarnate — but who 

knows 
In what new form of life ? 
67 



68 DORA 

Beside the door — 
The open door that looks o'er 

wood and moor — 
Dora, the farmer's daughter, stands 

that day ; 
And blushes with the merry dimples 

play 
Upon her cheeks, as, suddenly, she 

sees 
A hurrying form among the orchard 

trees ; 
And now within the door young 

Ezra stands — 
Ezra, the neighbor's son, whose sun- 
burnt hands 
Are filled with flowers ; arbutus 

buds he brings, 
Hepaticas, anemones — the Spring's 
First gifts, and as he lets them fall 
Into her hands, he whispers in her 

ear — 
(Fond lover's words for no one else 

to hear) — 
That she is fairer, sweeter than them 

all! — 
But now there comes a quick, excited 

call. 



DORA 69 

" Hist ! Dora, Ezra! ere to-morrow's 
sun 

The red-coats will be here from Lex- 
ington ! " 

Aud Dora's father bids them swift 
conceal 

In fresh-ploughed earth, in barrels, 
bags of meal, 

The ammunition he had brought the 
day 

Before, from neighboring towns to 
store away 

For future need. 

And then, to Dora, came 
A sudden inspiration, as a flame 
Of patriot ardor fired her breast — 
One place there was the British in 

their quest 
Would never think to search, or if 

they did 
The bullets and the powder could be 

hid 
Securely 'neath the linen in her 

chest — 
The wedding chest where she had 

laid away 



70 DORA 

*Mongst bags *of fragrant lavender 

that day 
Her homespun outfit, for no foreign 

gown 
Was worn by maid or matron in the 

town 
Of "red-hot" rebel fame! 

The very name 
Of buying English taffeta, a 

shame — 
A " tory " act was deemed, and for 

their tea 
They dried the raspberry leaves that 

all might see 
How odious was the '' Stamp " of 

tyranny ! 

So, Dora's wedding garments, every 

one 
Was made from wool and flax her 

hands had spun, 
And woven on the home-made wheel 

and loom. 
And laid within the coffer in her 

room — 
The quaint, carved oaken coffer, worn 

and brown, 



DORJ * 71 

Through many generations, handed 

down 
Yet strong as any miser's chest. 



Meanwhile, 

From Lincoln, Acton, Chelmsford 
and Carlisle, 

And all the neighboring towns came 
minute-men — 

Plain, sturdy farmers, but brave 
fighters when 

The conflict came, as every school- 
boy knows ! 

Within the woods, in hay-lofts, fields, 

they chose 
The safest places they could find to 

hide 
Their precious ammunition ; far and 

wide 
They scattered it throughout old 

Concord town 
Before the British red-coats had 

come down 
From Lexington ; but spite of all 

their care 

Y 



72 DORA 

Five hundred pounds of balls were 

captured where 
They thought them most secure. 

To Dora's home 
By seven o'clock a hungry band had 

come. 
And mindful how in Holy Writ we 

read 
That even our worst foes we still 

should feed, 
The mother, like a Christian, opened 

wide 
Her larder doors, but when the 

British tried 
To make some payment, " Nay ! " 

she proudly cried, 
" Take back your price of blood ! " 

With rude haste, then. 
The house was searched and sacked 

throughout ; but when 
Sweet Pora's room was reached, the 

red-coats said — 
(An insolent young captain at their 

head !) 
" Give us a kiss, my pretty maid, 

and we 



DORA 73 

Will not disturb your wedding 
finery ! " 

Then, furious at her cold, disdainful 

mien. 
The soldiers broke the quaint, old 

carven chest 
And slashed the dainty garments in 

their quest, 
But ere they found the bullets hid 

between, 
A sudden shot upon the bridge was 

heard. 
And hurriedly they seized — each 

man — his sword 
And gun, and hastened at their cap- 
taints word 
To hold the entrance of the old 

North bridge. 
For minute-men were seen upon the 

ridge 
And messengers were at the door to 

tell 
How, there, the two rash red-coat 

troopers fell ! 

Ah ! what a strange, uncanny day it 
seemed ! — 



74 DORA 

Poor Dora walked about as one who 

dreamed ; 
Her wedding garments ruined past 

repair 
She put again within the coffer 

where 
The powder and the bullets still lay 

hid; 
When Ezra came to say good-bye, 

she bid 
Him " God-speed " with a calm, 

strong face 
That of her aching heart showed not 

a trace, 
" It is a glorious cause for which you 

fight 
To-day," she said, " I would we 

women might 
Do more than wish you well, but we 

alas ! 
Can only wait and pray while slowly 

pass 
The long, long weary hours ! " and 

Dora saw 
As in a vision how the tide of war 
Which rose that April day would 

sweep ere long 



DORJ 75 

Through all the land with current 

fierce and strong, 
And claim, as sacrifice, full many a 

life 
Ere victory, at last, might crown the 

strife. 

But Ezra, thinking of the wedding 

day. 
With all a lover's hopefulness could 

say, 
" 'Tis only for a little while, dear 

heart, — 
Surely I shall be back again ere 

long. 
And you, sweet one, so steadfast, 

brave and strong 
Will not despond although to-day 

we part.'* 
And so with kiss and clasp they said 

good-bye 
And Ezra hastened down the road 

to try 
The rusty flint-lock that his grand- 
sire bore 
In French and Indian wars, long 

years before. 



76 DORA 

" A little while ? " Six times the 

flowers of May 
Had bloomed and faded since that 

parting day. 
Six, long, heroic years of bitter strife 

had passed 
Before sweet Liberty was won at 

last. 
"Peace — Liberty, at last ! " the hap- 
py bells ring on 
Until they reach the home where 

Dora spun 
And wove her wedding garments 

long ago — 
Fair wedding garments white as 

driven snow. 
Through door, through window 

streams the autumn sun 
And from the maple bough that 

sweeps the sill. 
Blood-red the leaves have fallen. 

Grave and still 
Yet holding in her eyes a wondrous 

light — 
As if she saw some far-off radiant 

sight — 



DORA 77 

A black-robed woman gathers up the 

leaves 
And looks far out across the harvest 

sheaves 
To church and churchyard where the 

sunbeams cast 
Long shadows on a grassy mound — 

the last 
Low bivouac ! — and yet," why should 

she weep ? 
Sweet is the victory won, and sweet 

the victor's sleep ! 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 

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